Present Gifts
by LilyGhost
Summary: Ranger decides to give Stephanie a different kind of gift for her birthday.


**I've always loved the quote "** _ **Yes ... I'm single. But you're going to have to be amazing to change that**_ **" and thought it could be something Stephanie says to Ranger if she ever felt confident enough to challenge him. Everything and everyone familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.**

Without saying a word, I studied the darkly dressed man in front of me. The cargo pants are practical, and they _practically_ have me panting at how well they hug those muscled thighs, perfect ass, and as Grandma Mazur couldn't help but notice ... a pretty damn impressive 'package'. The name 'Rangeman' embroidered on a long-sleeved t-shirt, is drawing my eyes to a pec that I know from multiple experiences, twitches slightly when you scrape your teeth or run your tongue over it. Those biceps that are straining the material of his sleeves can easily lift my body weight, even when I'm soaking wet and in the process of drowning. The hard ridges of his abs that are currently covered for both our safety, really should have a likeness of them carved into stone somewhere.

And I will never be able to forget that face, because it flashes in my mind every night right before I fall asleep so I can dream about him if nothing else. How can I not picture him ... with those hard yet incredibly soft lips, 100-watt grin, chocolately eyes ...

"Babe?"

"Huh?" I said, while trying to subtly check my chin for drool.

"I asked if you'd like to have dinner at Rangeman with me tonight. Are you planning on answering before I alter the question to involve breakfast instead?"

"Umm..."

"Relax. I'm not pressuring you to spend the night with me."

"That's good."

"Is it?" He asked, taking a step closer.

"Maybe," I told him, but it didn't sound convincing to either of us.

"Would sleeping with me really be so bad?"

"Yes and no."

Ranger is freakin' magic in bed, and I know a good time will be had by all if he winds up in mine again, but I also know his opinion on relationships. I don't want to be anyone's nightly entertainment unless they'll put up with me - and all the trouble and crap that comes along with me - during daylight hours, too.

"Explain," he ordered.

I blew out a breath. "Okay ... it comes down to this. Since Joe and I broke up, I haven't had to worry about what a guy thinks of me, or of what I did during the hours I spent away from him. I don't have to be concerned about potential in-laws hating me. I shave my legs only when I feel like it ..."

"Are they shaved right now?" He asked, scanning the legs of my jeans as if he'd like to find out for himself instead of having to ask.

"Yeah, but that's not important."

"I disagree, but what do you see as important?"

That's the question I've been contemplating ever since he let himself into my apartment ten minutes ago looking for my company. It suddenly dawned on me that I've used Ranger's no relationship/anti-marriage comments as a defense mechanism to keep myself from getting even more attached to him than I already was. That didn't help, because I love him just as much now as I always have. Clearly ... I need to figure something else out on how to deal with him. Could be that day's finally here.

I've never come right out and demanded something more from him ... maybe that's why he's never felt like he had to give me something beyond a satisfying night. I'd been blaming him for not being willing to get serious with me, but I've never given him something serious to commit to. I've been half the problem instead of the wounded party all along. This is why I really hate introspection, because I usually discover I've screwed up yet again.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is," I told him, feeling like I'm about to dangle myself off the side of a very steep cliff ... _naked_ , "I'm enjoying the way my life is going right now. I wake up with no one to consider except Rex. I'm focusing on my job so I can get better at it without anyone in my ear constantly telling me how bad I am while I do. In case I'm not being clear enough, I don't need any distractions right now ... and you have the potential to be a _huge_ one. I like being single, living my own life, and you'd have to be pretty friggin' amazing to make me consider a relationship again."

"You doubt my ability to be amazing?" He asked, cupping my face in one large hand.

"I don't mean in bed. There's no denying that you surpass amazing there, but I want there to be something between us once we manage to roll ourselves out of it."

"Such as?"

"A promise, an actual grown up relationship, hell ... even a simple date with a hint of a second one, would work for me."

"I'll pick you up at seven," he said, letting me go.

"What?"

His wolf grin was firmly in place. Uh-oh.

"You just admitted that you'd like to go on a date with me, Babe, so we're going on one. I'll be back here by six-fifty-nine, and I expect to be leaving at exactly seven o'clock. You'd better be ready."

"Or what?"

Oh my God! Am I flirting with Batman? I went back over my words, and the tone I used to say them, and nodded my head. I _had_ been flirting with him

"Or ... I'll keep you out of your clothes before slipping you back into them for a much later dinner. And make sure Monday night is left open."

"You know Monday's my birthday, right?"

"Yes. I've already planned for you to be spending it with me."

" _Really?_ "

"Yes. I made arrangements weeks ago."

"You don't think you should've run that by me first? What if I have other plans?"

"You already mentioned that you'd be celebrating by having dinner at your parents' house again. I figured you'd appreciate a reason to bail on that."

"So ... you had a surprise date in mind even before I told you that I may have wanted one?"

"Yes. Now you have a dinner date with an immediate follow-up for your birthday. Are you feeling less stressed?"

My eyes flew open in disbelief. "Are you freakin' kidding me? _NO!_ Now I have to figure out what the heck I'm going to wear both nights. See? My life is already getting more complicated and we aren't even technically dating yet."

"You have time to stress over the details, but not much. One thing," he said, as I mentally reprioritized my bills so I could pay my rent and still get some new clothes.

Nothing in my closet is good enough for a mystery date with the Man of Mystery. And I already know I can survive on peanut butter alone until I can catch another bad guy. This is a shopping emergency!

"What?" I asked him, my mind distracted.

"Shave your legs for both dates," he told me.

He gripped the back of my neck and used that handhold to pull me to him. He sealed his mouth to mine for a kiss similar to the one he gave me in my parking lot eons ago. It started off slow and unhurried, then he deepened it - using a different angle and more tongue - and I began to think that I should change the sheets on my bed ... _pronto_ , so they'd be clean when we fell onto them. But Ranger actually left right after, leaving my brain completely scrambled and me scrambling to find clothes and a brand new razor.

It bugs me to admit it, but I was ready and waiting by the time he came back to get me. I came to the conclusion that if we're going to attempt this going out thing, I can meet him halfway and try to be less annoying when it comes to punctuality. Batman is a lot of things ... patient isn't one of them.

"You look beautiful, Babe," he told me, giving me a quick yet moan-worthy kiss.

Looks like he's given some thought to this dating thing, too, since I've heard that compliments play a big part in it. Joe and I never really went out much, and his idea of a compliment was to say 'his boys' missed me. And that was still more for _him_ than me. Dickie was just a selfish dickhead ... so this type of consideration is new for me. I have to say ... it feels good to have a guy seem interested in making my evening as enjoyable as he can.

Ranger locked up behind us, then kept his hand on my hip until we reached his Turbo. He opened the door for me, waiting until my seatbelt was fastened before he closed the passenger's door and drove us to a really nice restaurant in Princeton.

The kind of nice where you gently place linen napkins on your lap, not cram crinkly paper ones into the collar of your shirt. I saw no elbows making dents in the tablecloths covering the tables. And the people I looked at were carefully sipping their wine or champagne that I'd bet money costs about fifty bucks a drop ... which would explain why they're savoring not spilling their drinks.

I tried hard not to add up what tonight must be costing Ranger, but I wasn't successful. This sort of place - and the White Truffle Tagliatelle - is far more than I'm used to, considering the pizza, six-pack, and couch dinners I had weekly with Joe, and the peanut butter and olive sandwiches I've been having at night now without him.

I kept a running total of everything put in front of me until Ranger stopped watching my reactions to them and actually started a conversation, putting more than two words together to form sentences.

"Just enjoy the night, Steph. Not everything has to be calculated."

I know he isn't just talking about pasta prices. He asked me out to spend time with me, not just to get in my pants, which we both know can happen with _very little_ effort on his part.

"I'm sorry. I've got that Sesame Street song playing non-stop in my head. You know the one ... ' _One of these things (is not like the others).'_ "

"Smash that track then, because you belong wherever you want to. Now ... tell me how today went."

"It was good. Well ... as good as finding yourself in a cemetery ever is."

"I heard you hauled in Diggery again."

"Yep. Thank God his snake was MIA. I'm really hoping it ate the uncle, got food poisoning, and died instantly."

"There's been no word on unexplained snake deaths, so my bet is that he heard you were coming and slithered the hell out of there before you arrived at the trailer and started throwing things."

"That's what Vinnie does when Connie tells him I'm on my way to the office."

He grinned at me over his champagne glass. I took a sip of my own and started pelting him with questions on _his_ workday. I learned it included a system consult, a meeting with his lawyer, and a break-in call he wanted to personally handle because he's known the business owner for years. Ranger's day started well before dawn inside the gym and probably only ended fifteen minutes before he got to my apartment, and I know he didn't once think of canceling on me. I feel a little bad that if our positions were reversed, I probably would've cried 'Uncle' and asked for a raincheck.

Although he told me to have my legs in touch-ready condition, aside from a little making out in my foyer when he dropped me off, which involved some T&A attention, I ended up in bed ... _alone_ , actually _sleeping_.

I decided that it had been a _very_ deliberate move on his part, because the morning of my birthday, I woke up with my mind already made up to go all the way with my celebrating tonight, either in his cushy apartment or my cramped bed.

Since I'd gone with a long, tight, backless black dress for our last date, I chose a short, flirty, teal number for my birthday. I bought it at the same time, at the same store, as I got the black one, but lied to my family about it. I told them that I needed to go shopping for a dress just to get myself out of my mother's Ranger-inquisition. I have no clue what he has us doing tonight, never mind what his long-term intentions are, so I wolfed down the slice of Pineapple Rum - _heavy_ on the rum - layer cake she made me in a way similar to the way my dad eats dinner every night, and headed back to my apartment to get ready hours before I really needed to.

I put my hair up, then took it back down. I tried out and wiped off three different lipstick shades before deciding to go with the berry-colored one, which was a nice contrast to my blue/green dress. I also slipped in and out of multiple FMPs, taking forever to pick the pair with the right look and heel height, which just happened to be the ones I'd pictured wearing when I first tried on the dress in the store's dressing room.

My time, effort, and second guessing paid off, though, when Ranger picked my locks at five-fifty-five and gave my body a very sexy head to toe scan.

"Looking good, Babe."

"Thanks. It's hard to find the perfect thing to wear when you don't know what's on the agenda."

"What you have on works for me."

"That's it? No hints?"

"No."

He grabbed my coat and held it up for me, taking the time to kiss the sensitive spot just below my ear before we left my apartment. Five minutes later, we were pulling out of my building's parking lot. Ranger's secrecy made all kinds of sense when I started recognizing the route he was taking. My stomach became one giant knot of pure panic. He'd lavished me with expensive food and champagne in a five-star restaurant I've only read about, but he took a completely different approach for my birthday.

By the time the _'Entering Newark_ ' sign appeared, my breaths were shallow and I was in a full body sweat mode. He not only planned to keep me company on my birthday, the 'not family material' man had made up his mind to take me home to meet his.

" _Ranger_..."

"Calm down, Steph. And breathe. I don't want you passing out on me. Tonight will be fine."

Easy for him to say, his mother _has_ to love him. The jury is still out whether she'll even be willing to tolerate me. My track record involving mothers/mother-in-laws/or mothers of my boyfriends isn't good.

Ranger parked in the driveway of an impressive, obviously lovingly maintained, two-story home. It's exactly what I'd always pictured the 'Manoso Manor' to look like. I continued to sit on my ass on the Porsche's leather seat and waited for my sneaky date to open my door for me, not so he could feel he's being chivalrous, more to stay in the safety of the car just a little bit longer.

He pried my hands apart and tugged on one of them until I had no choice except to slide out of the Turbo or lose a limb. He beeped it locked once my door was closed, and immediately dropped an arm across my shoulders, probably to keep me from bolting during our walk up the flagstone path that led to a large front porch.

Just like in the Burg, he didn't even have to knock. One of the wood and glass-paneled doors flew open, and I saw tons of blue, white, and silver, balloons tied along the banister leading to the second floor. I also caught the hint of something chocolate baking within the house. Then my field of vision narrowed to jet black hair, a red cashmere sweater, and two hands with burgundy-painted fingernails coming at my face. I'm about to be attacked, but in an oddly comforting way.

Ranger's mom took my cheeks in both hands so I was staring directly into somewhat familiar brown eyes. "Happy Birthday, Stephanie," Mrs. Manoso said. "Welcome to the family."


End file.
